


Nostalgia

by noreek101



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masaomi's A+ parenting, Slash, birthday fic, either one works, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noreek101/pseuds/noreek101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's stupid, really. It's not as if Seijuurou keeps track of their birthdays. </p>
<p>(Well, Kuroko's is on January 31st; Midorima's is on July 7th; Kise's is on June 18th; Aomine's is on August 31st; Murasakibara's is on October 9th; Reo's is on--)</p>
<p>Okay, maybe Seijuurou does keep track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nostalgia

Seijuurou never really was one to care about birthdays. After all, it was just a date; it wasn't as if it entailed anything _special_. And what exactly was one celebrating, anyhow? How presumptuous was it for one to make the day they were born their own personal holiday?

But ...

But Masaomi would always do something. It was one thing he didn't let slip past his cluttered mind full of appointments, budget, managements, and et cetera.

Masaomi wouldn't even do much. A simple "Happy birthday" at the breakfast table, a small gift waiting on Seijuurou's plate when the elder was too busy to attend his own morning meal. Shiori had always been the one to arrange celebrations, and when she--

Anyhow, the point still stood: Masaomi _remembered_. 

But this morning, this December 20th, there is no "Happy birthday."

Masaomi eats silently, and Seijuurou can tell by the absent-minded expression on the former's face that he is mentally preoccupied by this day's schedule, that there is no room in his mind for something as petty as a  _birthday_.

Seijuurou picks at his seaweed just as silently. 

He hates seaweed.

Masaomi rises from the table, and Seijuurou intakes a sharp breath. Masaomi raises an eyebrow. 

"Something wrong, Seijuurou?"

"No, I just ..." Seijuurou's hands grip his spoon tightly before he remembers the whole slew of etiquette nuances and Masaomi's voice echoing in his mind: _An Akashi does not display any mannerisms unbefitting for his station._

_Relax. Breathe. Speak._

"It's my birthday," Seijuurou finishes weakly. 

It sounds even more pathetic when he says it out loud. 

"Ah," Masaomi says blankly. Just that one word, so small and insignificant against the pitiful onslaught of _emotions_ Seijuurou is currently experiencing. 

Then Masaomi is leaving, his footsteps clacking against the floor in a precise rhythm.

For some reason, Seijuurou does not feel that particularly better. 

.

.

.

Mibuchi. Mibuchi will remember Seijuurou's birthday, right? After all, he's always talking about team bonding and knowing about each other as people to understand each other as teammates and ...

The day goes by with the most sentimental thing Mibuchi says to Seijuurou being "Sei-chan! How many times have I told you that you can call me Reo?"

Seijuurou forces a smile and says, "Of course. I simply forgot. I'll try to remember in the future, Reo."

He's such a hypocrite. Why should he expect Mibu-- _Reo_ \--to remember a flicker of a day out of 365 when Seijuurou cannot even remember a _name_ preference?

"Sei-chan, is everything all right?" asks Reo, a concerned tilt to his head. 

"I'm fine," Seijuurou says. 

Because it really is just a date on a mental calendar. It has no importance in the grand scheme of things. 

.

.

.

Practice ends, and Seijuurou somehow finds himself in a game of basketball with his middle school teammates, plus one Kagami Taiga.

How did he even get here?

(It was totally not because of Kuroko and Nigou's matching blue orbs of hope and pleading and beckoning and ...) ( _Wow_. Seijuurou was just bested by puppy eyes.) (He must be losing his touch....)

Seijuurou doesn't know what he's expecting. It's a game of basketball, for gods' sake. 

But Midorima has always been closer than Seijuurou typically lets people get. Not to mention his absurd clinging to his beliefs of "fate."

And Kuroko . . . Kuroko has always been one to try and recall personal days of gratification. The phantom sixth man is just ... thoughtful that way. 

Not to mention Kise's obsession with anything that could be turned into a party.

And surely  _Momoi_ remembered--and even though she is not here, would she not have told Aomine before he came here?

(They finish the game with no mention of anything remotely related to birthdays. Seijuurou's team wins, 15-13.)

For some reason, Seijuurou receives only minimal satisfaction from this. 

Midorima, Kuroko, Kise, and Aomine say (notice) nothing. 

.

.

.

Seijuurou curls up on the park bench, fitting his knees under his chin. It's a disgraceful position, one that Masaomi would surely disapprove of; but Seijuurou's past caring. Masaomi obviously can't see him right now, so why should Seijuurou care?

A niggling voice inside Seijuurou's head whispers,  _You're sulking over something you have no right to. After what you did to them, do you really expect them to_ care _about something as silly as that?_

But--! But that was a  _year_ ago! They wouldn't keep a grudge that long, and it wasn't even Seijuurou who did it--

_It was still your hands, still your mouth. It was still_ you _._

Seijuurou strangles a whimper threatening to rise up and hugs his knees to his chest.

It's stupid, really. It's not as if Seijuurou keeps track of _their_ birthdays. 

(Well, Kuroko's is on January 31st; Midorima's is on July 7th; Kise's is on June 18th; Aomine's is on August 31st; Murasakibara's is on October 9th; Reo's is on--)

Okay, maybe Seijuurou does keep track. 

Seijuurou lets out a sigh and buries his face into his knees. He shouldn't even care about this. Really, he shouldn't, because _it's just a single day out of an entire year; no one cares; no one cares; no one--_

"Oi."

Seijuurou's head shoots up. 

Kagami stands in front of him, one hand awkwardly scratching the nape of his neck and the other shoved into a suspiciously bulging jacket pocket. He flushes a scarlet brighter than his hair, then mutters, "Happy birthday."

Seijuurou's mouth parts to form a perfectly round O as Kagami shoves a small, flat box in Seijuurou's direction. 

"Well?" Kagami says, his pink cheeks belying the harshness of his tone. 

Seijuurou wordlessly accepts the package.

"I ... Thank you?"

Kagami rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Don't make a fuss."

With that, he ambles away, hands once again stuffed in his pockets. 

Seijuurou takes the lid off; and a surprised, but not unpleasant bark of laughter erupts from his throat. 

Inside the box is a gleaming pair of bright red scissors. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a birthday fic when it's the beginning of July. . . . Good job, me. XD


End file.
